Reality TV is often derided, but rights groups welcome the exposure given gays and lesbians, especially as four states weigh same-sex marriage ballot measures.

"Redneck Island" hardly sounds like a welcoming place for a gay man. But Adam Freeman, a Nashville hairstylist who came out of the closet four years ago, shipped out to CMT's reality show this year for several weeks, finishing unscathed and in second place.

A niche version of CBS' long-running mega-hit "Survivor," the program featured hunting, bowling and fishing events in which Freeman competed against proudly beer-chuggin' good ol' boysand country gals. The father of five was open about his sexual orientation and says his only regret was not packing "enough lip gloss and hair spray."

"Some [cast members] that were from smaller areas and had not had the opportunity to speak with someone who was gay or lesbian before," said Freeman in a phone interview, "it changed them for the better — not that any of them were horrible — but it showed them that hey, he's like me."

On "Meet the Press" this year, Vice President Joe Biden said he thought "Will & Grace," which ran from 1998 to 2006 on NBC, helped America become more comfortable with same-sex marriages. But as four states weigh ballot measures on the issue, gay rights organizations believe they have a more powerful and pervasive cultural ally in the voting booth than sitcoms — reality television.

Although it is routinely dismissed as trash, the reality genre has developed a reputation for diversity that scripted television hasn't been able to match, especially when it comes to the inclusion of gays and lesbians. This consistent and constantly growing — if not always flattering — representation across nearly all networks has helped humanize gay people for mainstream America, according to gay rights organizations.

"These shows have the opportunity to show people who are on the fence about gay marriage that at the end of the day what these couples want to do is form a life together, to take care of each other," says Matt Kane, associate director of entertainment media at the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation. "Once you really understand that, it becomes much harder to see why same-sex couples should not have their relationships recognized."

Though the number of gay and lesbian characters in scripted series like "The New Normal" and "Downton Abbey" is at an all-time high, the low cost and enduring popularity of reality television make it more conducive to creative risk-taking — including casting. It's also an easy way for niche cable networks to develop original programming.

And reality TV simply holds an emotional sway that the scripted form often lacks.

"There is something particularly striking about actual gay people being themselves on television," says Katherine Sender, author of "Business, Not Politics: The Making of the Gay Market" and an academic who has studied reality television.

The Emmy-winning sitcom might not even be possible if it weren't for the trail blazed by reality television, which has a long history of depicting gays and lesbians. In 1973, gay teenager Lance Loud came out on the PBS documentary series "An American Family," often cited as TV's first reality show.

Similarly, "The Real World" put LGBT issues front and center when it premiered on MTV in 1992 — a full six years before "Will & Grace" began airing. The inaugural season chronicled the dating woes of gay roommate Norman Korpi and in 1994 HIV-positive cast member Pedro Zamora exchanged vows with his boyfriend on the air.

President Clinton issued a statement on the day Zamora died later that year. "Through his work with MTV, he taught young people that 'the real world' includes AIDS," it read.

The continued visibility of gays and lesbians in reality television may be essential, especially at a time when public opinion on same-sex marriage is rapidly evolving, say gay activists. But the inclusiveness isn't solely driven by a progressive social agenda in Hollywood — ratings and money matter more, according to television analysts.

Nor is reality TV uniformly gay-friendly. For instance, television isprobably years away from a same-sex season of "The Bachelor" or "The Bachelorette," a show that has never included a person of color in a central role.

But gay activists also worry about the tension between quality and quantity: What good is increased visibility if these depictions simply reinforce negative stereotypes — like Colton Cumbie, the arch villain from "Survivor: One World," or the interchangeable sniping gay sidekicks who pop up on Bravo's "Real Housewives" franchise?